


High seas and Hijinks

by xDomino009x



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: (French), Alternate Universe - Pirate, Canon LGBTQ Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Espionage, F/F, Femslash, Heartbreak, Kissing, Love Bites, More Like Lesbianage, Orlesian Language, Secret Relationship, Spies & Secret Agents, Touching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6410506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xDomino009x/pseuds/xDomino009x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Empress Celene still mourns the loss of her lover and now the trinket she has to remember her by. The elven locket was stolen, she thinks, by pirates. Leliana, as an agent of Sparrow - the Empress' new Spymaster - is sent to recover the locket, bring it to the Empress and put an end to the pirates' crimes.<br/>But nothing is ever as simple as that, is it..?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be adding more characters as I add chapters I think, so hopefully there will be a proper crew eventually.  
> This is based loosely on the manga 'Love Flag Girls' which i just finished rereading again :)  
> Enjoy the read :3

There had been many whispers about Empress Celene Valmont in the time she had been on the throne. Secrets were the only currency the nobility cared about, while they exchanged their gold to have them hidden or revealed at the opportune moment. Lies, just like their coin, flowed as freely as wine. Behind closed doors small truths were put together, in public scandals were sought out in the out of time steps to a waltz or the slip of a mask. 

They say in Antiva the streets run red with blood. They obviously hadn’t been to Orlais recently.

Tonight was a celebration, the anniversary of the day the Empress had ascended to the golden throne. It was also the first time in those twenty years of her rule she had missed this annual ball, and her absence did not go unnoticed by her guests. Whether they really cared for her being there or not was not the point. 

Rumours circled the Palace and gardens as quickly as the performers lapped the dance floor, although kept away from the watchful eyes and listening ears of the Empress’ royal guard. 

Her visitors made out to have solved the mystery with plots and conspiracies, some debating if the Empress had simply taken ill this evening or if there had been a sinister plan to detain her. Some even went as far as to suggest her assassination. Other still suggested she had taken a lover. It would be unlike Celene, who played the eligible Lords around her little finger while making promises to none, but not unheard of for a ruler like Her Radiance.

Leliana paid no mind to the ridiculous theories the nobles conjured up to provide themselves some form of excitement while they went without the presence of their Empress. How they must have missed trying to one up each other in the hopes of gaining her Majesty’s favour, as though the Empress was at all bothered with their trivialities or hedonistic vices. While she was of course a skilled player of the Game – as the Orlesians liked to call it – Celene did have other means.

Instead of getting involved she moved between the groups and cliques until she came to one of the balconies that overlooked the gardens. Here she was alone and she slid the mask from her face for a moment. The metal sat heavily on her cheeks but it didn’t bother her. Still it was a relief to take it off for just a moment.

As she sighed she listened. 

A few feet away from the edge of her balcony was another, one for each of the French doors that exited out of the ballroom. Standing about ten feet away from her was her mistress, the Empress’ personal Spymaster. There had been another before her, an elven woman whose name Leliana had never discovered. One day she might know it, but it didn’t matter. For now she served Sparrow, under her own alias of Nightingale, and that would do her. But just because she worked for Sparrow, didn’t mean she couldn’t spy on her too.

“The Empress is mourning, Champion.”

That must mean the blond man speaking to Sparrow was Ser Michel de Chevin, the Champion of the Empress and no doubt a fierce Chevalier. She knew the man through reputation, many knew his name in the Imperial court, but she had never seen him as far as she knew. She was sure she must have seen him around the Winter Palace with her Majesty; her champion was supposed to be ready to protect her at all costs. 

But recently the Empress had rarely left her chamber. She took her meals alone, forbade anyone to walk by the royal wing unless their duties took them there or they were asked for.

Michel nodded quickly, his hand wrapped around the hilt of the sheathed blade at his side. His brow was furrowed, as though he did not like the turn of events the Empress’ feelings had caused for him. Leliana almost scoffed aloud. It was as if the Empress were not allowed to feel her own emotions, without someone feeling affronted at her audacity. The most powerful woman in Thedas and still she had people telling her what she should do and how she should feel doing it. Instead Leliana settled for scowling into the night and continued to eavesdrop, paying rapt attention to a conversation that was not hers.

“It’s those pirates,” Sparrow continued, “They claim to be a merchant ship, and with no proof I cannot convince the guards otherwise. Only Her Radiance could compel them to seize the ship and apprehend the pirates, but she will not raise a finger against them.” the Spymaster’s annoyance matched the Champion’s and for a moment they stood in silence while Leliana waited for them to say more. 

Just when it seemed their conversation was done Michel muttered, “They have some gall coming here of all places.” His fist tightened around the hilt as he spoke, his eyes seeming to grow darker.

“We cannot act, even as we want to.”

Sparrow’s words were meant to be calming but they had the opposite effect on the warrior. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her close, spitting, “Do not tell me of my limitations, knife-ear.” 

The Spymaster chuckled at that even as fear briefly flashed through her eyes. The Chevalier turned on his heel and left. Smiling up at the stars Sparrow called after him, “Those nobles are not the only ones with secrets, Champion.” Michel stopped dead in the doorway, then marched angrily away, throwing the glass doors closed behind him. And then again there was silence, until…

“Do the stars amuse you as much as our words little Nightingale?”

Leliana winced. She thought she’d made a good job of looking nonchalant about being out here in the cold and by herself, but apparently not. There was a reason Sparrow was the Spymaster and she was just an agent. One day she hoped to change that, but for now she was learning and that would have to do for the time being. 

Lowering her head slightly Leliana began to turn around, then stopped at a gesture from the spymaster. Instead she leaned back against the stone railing around the balcony and spoke into the night.

“I didn’t mean to overhear, Sparrow.”

“Yes you did,” she accused, but her tone was not at all accusatory. In fact it was part admiration, part amusement and part Leliana didn’t know what. 

Surprised, the agent shrugged, “I suppose. I worry for the Empress as much as anyone.”

Sparrow seemed to consider for a moment, then hummed happily, “Then you can be the one to help her. That pirate ship, you see it?” She looked towards the docks, past the garden, and Leliana followed her gaze. Leliana made her observations known and let Sparrow continue, “You can join their crew. I don’t know how you’ll do it, but I trust you’ll find a way. Do this, prove yourself, and I’ll think of some way to reward you.”

“I’d do it without the reward, you know that Sparrow. I serve the Empress, whatever Her Radiance needs.” 

Sparrow laughed. “Good. Then you should go now, they may set sail soon.”

Leliana nodded, even though Sparrow could not see her do so, and exited the balcony. With a swagger to her steps and a smile on her face she walked through the ballroom, refusing a dance and politely excusing herself from conversations. With her confidence she could charm the old gods, and the thought brought her peace of mind as she made her way to the stables and mounted one of the soldier’s horses. She spurred it onward with the heels of her boots.

Towards the docks she rode, the horse’s hooves clicking on the cobblestone with every movement it made. She passed guards and soldier who each gave her the same disgruntled look. Tonight was the night for someone of her status to be celebrating at the Palace, and her gown was certainly not made for riding. But they didn’t bother to do anything about it, so she continued on her way without interruption, dismounting only when she came to the plaza and the four lions of Orlais.

The lions’ eyes followed her as she walked around them, gold inlaid with sparkling jewels that caught what little light the evening had to offer and let it bounce around the square in dappled rainbows. It was empty aside from herself and the horse, and while the quiet was welcome the solitude made her uncomfortable. 

Nothing good ever came of being out in the middle of Val Royoux this late and alone.

Hurriedly she slapped the horse on its hind quarters and sent it galloping back to the Palace stables. She watched it go until it turned a corner and out of sight, then she jogged towards the iron gates that led to the docks, watching her back for anything that might be some form of adversary. More than once she jumped at nothing more than a shadow, seeing daggers glinting in torchlight where there was only the fire catching off a windowpane. From the corner of her eye everything looked as though it was out to get her, no matter how mundane it was or how childish her fears were in reality.

The ship loomed ahead of her, a splendid vessel which rose and fell with the waves lapping against the stone wall of the docks. She strode cautiously down the pier, waiting for someone to leap at her with a rusty cutlass or a hooked hand swinging towards her face. There was probably no truth to the stories she’d heard about pirates as she grew up, but still the fear gripped her as she edged forwards, closer to the gangplank.

To her surprise no one stopped her as she made her way to the ship, even when she stepped on a half broken plank of the pier which snapped with a heart stopping crack through the thick silence. 

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she was sure someone would hear it and come find her, kill her and throw her into the sea for the sharks. She had never seen a shark before, only read about them in books, and she wondered if they would hurt her or just ignore her as she tried to swim to shore.

With what she could muster of her courage she sneaked up the gangplank and onto the ship, checking left and right and left again as she made her way to a pile of barrels and nets. With a sigh she realised she had made it, and her hands reached out to touch the rope mesh to reassure herself. They were slimy and wet under her fingers and she wished she hadn’t gone to touch them but it was too late now. Her fingers closed around them as she fell forwards, finally allowing herself to take real breaths.

Someone coughed somewhere on the ship, and panic came over her. 

Before she had time to think what she was doing she’d pulled the netting up with one hand, slid down onto the wooden deck behind the barrels and let the nets fall over her. She couldn’t breathe through the stench of salt and seaweed, her nose stinging at the foreign smells as they attacked her lungs as effectively as any poison. Green slime that looked to have once been plants stuck in her red hair, but she dared not brush it away as footsteps came onto the ship. 

She shivered as some slid along her spine, and while she wanted to scream and bolt she found herself frozen in place. A woman’s voice called out, “Raise anchor and fly the colours lads. We’re setting sail.”

Something heavy was dropped onto the nets, and onto her, and Leliana’s sheer terror was replaced with encroaching blackness as she felt her consciousness beginning to drift with the pain in her head. 

She heard laughs and screams of excitement and then there was nothing…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to update, same with all my longer fics really... Hopefully updates can be more steady now, even if they aren't exactly regular

Leliana wasn’t sure how long she’d been at sea. The bobbing of the ship on the waves was already making her a little seasick though, and she imagined it would only get worse from here.

She had expected to see the sky above her when she woke up, whether it was night or day hadn’t played a part in her thoughts, but instead she saw only the wooden boards of the ship. The room was well lit, with lanterns hanging from brackets on the walls and she wondered how safe it was to have fire out at sea, even if it was contained.

“Good evening.”

Leliana jumped and sat bolt upright. She hadn’t realised until now that she was in a bed, with pale yellow satin sheets and matching cushions. The draped on the window were the same colour. It wasn’t an aesthetic choice Leliana could see herself making but she supposed everyone was entitled to their opinion.

The woman sitting in the seat by the door was watching her with a smirk on her face. Leliana wondered how long she’d been there, and how long she’d been in this bed. The woman reached up and tugged the blue bandanna over her hair into a better place, before standing up and stopping by the bed with her hands on her hips. “Whats a sweet thing like you doing, stowing aboard this ship?”

Leliana searched her mind for an excuse, frowning. “I’m running away,” she lied quickly, quietly. She cast her eyes to the ground and didn't say any more, hoping the pirate would take pity on a poor runaway.

“You’ve come to the right place. The Siren’s Call is always hiring, if you’re willing to work.” The woman smiled at her, dark eyes twinkling in the firelight. She was quite beautiful, for a pirate. Leliana nodded and attempted a weak smile back. She didn't feel well at all. But she had to do this, it was her mission. It was her duty to the Empress, to Sparrow.

She stood up, still wearing her ball gown, and tried to find her feet. The woman caught her and steadied her as she ship lurched on a particularly rough wave. “I’m Leliana,” the fake runaway said quickly, introducing herself and hoping no one knew her name. Why they would she didn't know, but the fear was there.

“Isabela,” the pirate replied, offering her hand in a way that seemed both genuine and mocking at the same time, “Looking forward to having you under me.” She turned at that, with a wink and a playful grin, and left the room.

Captain Isabela was quite something, not at all what Leliana had expected, but she still had a job to do. She wouldn’t get distracted by pirate ladies with their innuendos.

It took her another ten minutes to work up the courage to leave the room, partly because she’s seen her reflection and noticed how awful she looked. Her makeup from the ball was smudged over her eyes, her hair was part way to matted and in need of a good wash. Her gown was tatty and she was sure there were stains from the seaweed under the nets. It was still a wonder she’d been found and not thrown off the ship, but then maybe the pirates hoped they could ransom her for a pretty sum if she was from a noble family.

Maybe the runaway story hadn't been her best idea, all things considered.

On the deck it was indeed evening. Their air was chill and carried the smell and sting of the salt with it. She didn't like it, but she wouldn't let that stop her. Faces followed her as she walked from the cabin she’d just been in and up to the helm of the ship, where Isabela stood behind the wheel and a shorter woman stood beside her. She was an elf, although it had been difficult to tell with the long hair covering her ears until the wind picked up.

“Ah, you two haven’t been introduced,” Isabela mused, taking her hands off the wheel for a second to adjust the hat over her bandanna. She looked like a real pirate from the stories, “This is Leliana. And Leliana, this is the Captain. Mahariel.”

“Captain?”

The elf was no older than her, maybe even younger, and she definitely didn't look like a captain of anything. Her blonde hair was long and flowed from under a folded red bandanna that was tied around her hairline. Leliana looked at the girl who seemed too pretty to be a pirate captain and offered her hand. The elf shook it and beamed, “Welcome aboard Leliana!”

The rest of the crew had stopped their work and gathered around the bottom of the stairs to eavesdrop. Isabela scowled down at them. “Get back to work, you scurvy dogs!” She was smiling as they left to return to their duties with murmurs of disappointment. Then she turned to Leliana again. “We’ll have to find you some decent clothes to wear, get rid of that fancy thing. Captain, maybe you could help her out of what she’s wearing?”

Mahariel nodded and spun Leliana around before she could protest, her fingers darting over the corset back of her dress and loosening it hastily. Leliana blushed - they were still at the helm. “Maybe take the girl inside before she gets too embarrassed,” Isabela muttered to the Captain.

Leliana really didn't know who was the boss of who here.

“Aye aye first mate,” Maharial agreed, tapping the peak of Isabela’s hat so it fell over her eyes. There were feathers in the black material that Leliana hadn't noticed before. It was a nice hat.

She found herself being led down into the cabin again, back with the badly coloured decor and bright lights. Maharial opened drawers and wardrobes, searching for something that took her fancy. Leliana busied herself with looking around, holding her dress up as she went.

The room was filled with various objects, now she actually looked around. A textured map of Thedas was pinned to one wall, the seas being smooth and glossy while the mountains were rough and the reas of the land somewhere in between. On a desk beneath it, a small chest stood open and piled high with gold sovereigns and polished gems.

This could be where the locket was, if it was going to be anywhere. She looked over to Mahariel, who was still busy with the outfit, and began to rummage through the unlocked drawers in the desk. She found stacks of parchment, ink bottles, ruined quills and then the last drawer was locked.

“Finished! Come on, let's get you out of that dress.” Mahariel summoned her over and Leliana left with a last look at the lock on the drawer.

It was uncomfortable being in her small clothes in front of Mahariel, even out of her shift. She wouldn't be wearing a dress, at least not one that would require her to wear something under it like her gown had. Mahariel had tried to convince her that she wouldn’t need the small clothes either, but she had chosen to ignore that advice. Pirates were disgusting, but Leliana would have to deal with it until she could get that locket.

The outfit was much better that her dress for ease of mobility and movement, but that was the only upside. It smelled like salt, it was slightly damp in some places probably from leaking water, and it was the most revealing thing she’d ever worn. The skirts didn't even reach her knees, the blouse was cut to reveal an inappropriate amount of cleavage and all in all it left very little to the imagination.

“I can't wear this!” she exclaimed, mortified by her new look as she stared in the reflection of the windows.

Mahariel frowned. “Why not? You look good.”

Leliana spluttered a little in her embarrassment. She might have preferred just walking around in her shift if this was the alternative she was given. “It’s not good, it’s - it’s -” She didn't even have the words to express her distaste for the new outfit.

Mahariel looked crushed. “I think you look beautiful, but you can change back if you like.” Was the Captain of a pirate ship actually pouting?

Leliana sighed, blushing not only because of her new predicament but also because of that compliment. Did she really look good in this? She had never been ashamed of her body, in fact quite the opposite. She worked hard to keep in shape, ready for whatever duties the Empress needed carried out. She had assassinated and duelled in her name, whatever had been required. But she had never thought of showing off what she had worked to achieve. 

It seemed like a bad idea, at least in Orlais, but if this was the life of a pirate it was a life she was going to have to get used to for a while. She may as well dress the part she supposed. “Thank you Captain.”

The elf beamed immediately and stepped closer, putting a hand on the small of Leliana’s back. “Please, Mahariel will do.”

Leliana blushed again. What was it with these pirates? 

She slapped Mahariel’s hand away and took a step away from her. The captain chuckled and shook her head as she led the way from the cabin back to the main deck of the ship. It was drawing closer to night time now, and the stars were sparkling in the sky like crystal studs on velvet blackness.

“Looking good!” Isabela shouted down to her, with a grin on her face. 

She was still steering the ship along whatever heading they had. She looked imposing up at the helm, the wind blowing her hair and the tail of her jacket out behind her. Leliana was a little intimidated if she was honest.

Mahariel appeared behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. “She is, isn’t she?”

Leliana jumped away from her again, shocked and more than a little disgusted at her touchy-feely attitude. With the clothes she was in she didn’t want a pirate putting her hands all over her. Who knew what her hands were covered in, probably grease and grime and nothing pleasant. 

The two women laughed at her reaction and Leliana sighed. This was going to be harder than she’d thought.

“Maybe I should introduce you to a few of my crew,” Mahariel offered. She offered her hand as well, but while she agreed to be shown around Leliana refused her hand. Mahariel frowned, but perked up again very quickly.

Then she led the way.


	3. Chapter 3

They headed first below deck, down a ladder that made Leliana very glad she had changed out of her ball gown. 

Mahariel lead her to a small side room that was occupied by just two beds and a desk. The woman behind the desk looked up and scowled, before realising it was the captain and her expression softened. “Morrigan, just paying a visit. This lovely thing is Leliana, she’s joining our crew.” Mahariel turned in time to miss Morrigan’s unimpressed look, and introduced the dark haired woman to Leliana as one of the ship’s healers. They were apparently lucky to have her, but Leliana wasn’t sure she’d be lucky if she was ever injured judging by the look Morrigan was giving her.

Next they headed towards the hammocks that littered the lower deck. Mahariel tapped one blonde haired man on the shoulder until he woke up with a groan. On his stomach lay a sleeping ginger tabby. “This is Anders, another mage and healer. He deals with serious injuries.” Leliana almost hoped if she was ever injured it was serious.

“Hi,” Anders muttered, still half asleep. “Who’s this?”

Leliana introduced herself and offered her hand. He shrugged and was asleep again within a few seconds. Mahariel laughed and steered her away, telling her the mage needed his beauty sleep. He was rather handsome for a mage. Leliana wasn’t sure she had heard things right about pirates. She had heard they were all salty old men with twisted faces and gnarled beards. That wasn’t anything like what she had seen.

There were a few other crew members who she was introduced to, an elven rogue called Sera who was also a friend of Red Jenny - she had heard of them before, but never worked with them. Sera was a wildcard by all accounts, the crew’s prankster. It was harmless fun until an attack came, then her skills really came in handy.

She’d met the prince, Sebastian Vael, who’d come aboard to rebel against his parents wishes but had found he excelled at life as a pirate and hadn't returned to his home in Starkhaven yet. One day he might return, but for now the wine and women suited him well enough. Leliana wasn't sure how she felt about him. He was a prince, he had a duty to his people and his family, and yet he was out here sailing the seas with a band of criminals. It was his life she supposed, but she wouldn't make the same choices.

There were others whose names she didn't remember but she was sure she’d learn soon who they all were.

After meeting the crew, Mahariel decided she should learn about the ship. She knew some things, she could tell the mast from the helm for example, but she didn't know there was a specific name for the bottom of the ship. It was called the bilge apparently, and she’d take the Captain’s word for it.

If she stayed here for long she was sure she could learn the layout of the ship from top to bottom in no time. The helm was decorated with vines and flowers up the hand railing, the masts had carvings up it that looked like runes but she wasn't sure. On the stern of the ship was a sculpture of a beautiful maiden with long flowing hair and a fair face.

Mahariel was kind, she agreed not to put Leliana to work right away. Instead she sent her to her cabin and sat with her on the bed in there. The only bed on the ship, other than the ones in the sick bay. “So tell me about yourself, Leliana. I want to know about you,” she said as she hopped onto the bed.

“Because I’m new on the ship?” Leliana asked, sitting cross legged on the bed with her back to the head board. Mahariel laughed and edged closer.

“Because I find you very interesting.” Mahariel had big, blue eyes and long lashes, like many elves had pretty eyes. They never left Leliana’s as the spy sat there with a red flush in her cheeks. This captain didn't know when to stop, but Leliana wasn’t sure she wanted her to learn. Her blunt nature was quite refreshing after the Orlesian ball rooms and chateaus.

Leliana sighed, “Very well. What do you want to know.”

“Well, it’s obvious you’re Orlesian,” Mahariel began, “Where are you from.”

“Val Royaux,” Leliana lied quickly. She wasn’t even Orlesian, not really, but she would play along with whatever Mahariel thought she knew. Better to keep up a strong cover than reveal too many personal details.

Mahariel nodded and smiled. She knew the big city, Leliana was sure. Everyone did. “Isabela tells me you’re running away though. What’s a noble girl got to run away from?”

“Well…” Leliana began. She’d hoped not to elaborate on this, but now it had come up she couldn't just not answer. Well, she could but Mahariel would probably just push her for an answer. The captain didn't seem too sensitive, even if she was charming. “My parents wished me to marry a Duke, but I do not love him.”

Mahariel thought about that for a long while, staring at her confused for a moment. It made Leliana uncomfortable, but she didn't say anything or make any kind of move that would suggest it. The elven captain sighed and shook her head, muttering something about nobles being awful people, and reclined back on the bed slowly until she lay down and blew a deep breath up into her face to shift the hair that had fallen into her eyes. Leliana watched her now, tempted to brush the hair from her eyes for her.

“The Duke would have been a lucky man, with a pretty girl like you.”

Leliana scoffed and rolled her eyes. One day Mahariel would flirt with the wrong person and it would land her in trouble. She sighed and lay down beside the elf awkwardly in her new outfit which revealed even more of her cleavage when she was on her back or her sides. She knew where Mahariel’s eyes were and blushed a deeper shade of red. “You don't need to keep looking at me you know,” she muttered.

Mahariel shrugged and stretched out. “I’m only looking because you never asked me to stop. I can, it it makes you uncomfortable.”

Leliana didn't reply, she closed her eyes and hoped she could get to sleep. Before she did, she felt Mahariel get up and heard her footsteps retreating, before the door opened and closed.

\- x -

She’d been on the ship for about a week, or at least she’d been conscious on the ship for a week. By now she’d learned most of the names of the crew and knew her way around the three decks rather well. But she still hadn't found anything that seemed like an elven locket besides the one Mahariel kept from her mother, and that was always around the Captain's neck.

She had endured a week of Mahariel’s shameless flirting, Isabela’s orders and Morrigan’s sneering. She’d had to visit the healers for a rope burn on her hand when she’d let a rope slip retying the mainsail to the boom pole after a storm had changed the tightness and it hadn’t been a pleasant trip.

The captain had fussed over her afterwards, much to Isabela’s annoyance. The first mate seemed to be in charge of the ship and looking after the Captain, while the Captain just decided what she wanted to do.

They’d even gotten involved in a sea battle, although Leliana had been locked away in the Captain’s quarters during the fighting under Mahariel’s orders. She’d said she cared about her, but Leliana knew she just needed her out the way. She knew a noble girl wouldn’t be able to fight, the bard just hated that she was trained in more arts than just the softer ones.

“I’d say it’s a beautiful day, but when I look at you it doesn’t compare.” 

Leliana was standing at the stern of the ship. Maharial had sneaked up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. Leliana didn't jump, just let the elf rest her chin on her shoulder and keep her arms where they were. She’d got that hint from Anders, who said the Captain was like that with the whole crew, especially the new ones. It was how she got close to people. Leliana was almost disappointed this wasn't just for her. She had enjoyed the flattery.

She sighed. “That’s sweet. Cliche, but sweet.” Leliana laughed at Mahariel’s gasp of pretend offence.

“That hurt, my Lady,” Mahariel muttered, pressing a little closer. Leliana could feel her breath on the back of her neck, then her lips. She didn't dare move for a moment, in case she was imagining it. Had the captains honeyed words gone to her head?

But the feeling didn't go away. Mahariel shifted, kissing her shoulder and the base of her neck. Her hands wandered upwards, towards her breast, under the blouse she was still wearing. “Is this okay Leliana?” Mahariel whispered. Leliana nodded slowly, putting one hand from the side of the ship over the hand Mahariel had left on her stomach.

Her hand reached Leliana’s breasts, fingers traced lightly along the edges of her bra. Leliana murmured something that Mahariel didn't hear, but did not object to her continuing. “You’re beautiful, Leliana,” she breathed in her ear, before moving back to kiss and suck her neck. She was going to leave a mark. She didn't care.

Leliana moaned as she felt teeth on her skin, moving her hand from Mahariel’s hand and to behind the elf’s neck. She tipped her head and knotted her fingers in Mahariel’s long hair. 

Fingers ran over her thighs, under the hem of her skirt, and then slid upwards, just like the Captain’s other hand had moved up to her breast. The bard whimpered softly as Mahariel’s fingers reached the edge of her underwear and ran up and down over the skin there before touching her through the damp fabric. “Should I stop?” she asked, her voice barely audible. Leliana shook her head, tightened her grip on both the back of Mahariel’s neck and the side of the boat as her knees shook slightly beneath her.

Mahariel smiled as she continued. Her touches became harder, Leliana’s sighs got louder in her ear. The girl would probably be embarrassed after, but for now with the wind around them and the taste of salt on her skin, Mahariel found she wasn't thinking much about the morning.

“Stop,” Leliana whispered. Mahariel stopped, moved her hands and stepped away.

“Is everything okay?” she asked the blushing Orlesian in front of her. Leliana still stood with her hand on the side of the ship and her back to her would be lady lover. Mahariel frowned at the lack of response, but didn't want to press her for an answer. “I can leave, if you’d like me to.”

Leliana shook her head and shivered. “I’ll go to bed. See you in the morning.”

“My cabin’s free, if you like.” Leliana began to object. Mahariel interrupted, “I can stay somewhere else.”

Leliana looked at her for a second and nodded. She didn't want to talk anymore. Her clothes were crooked as she walked away, rubbing the tender spots on her neck with a finger. Mahariel looked after her with a look of want on her face. She regretted that she hadn't been unable to continue, but she wasn't about to push her. She might be a flirt, but she wasn't… whatever that would make her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with another chapter finally!  
> I'm on a writing kick so maybe we'll get a second one before the year is up :p

The next week and a half was awkward to say the least. Leliana kept herself to herself, not talking to any of the crew except to answer questions or reply to orders. She knew they were heading back to Orlais, back to the port of Val Royeaux. And she knew that Sparrow would want to see her when she returned, maybe to hear a report of how she’d done nothing but been felt up by the Captain of the ship. 

The Captain who was currently standing beside Isabela, who had the helm as usual. The two of them looked like perfect pirates, although Mahariel could do with some more self restraint and a little less of her bouncy attitude. A lot less of that attitude really. But other than that they looked like they could be heading to attack a city and plunder its riches or whatever it was pirates actually did.

After being around them for this long she honestly wasn't sure she had any real idea what pirates were anymore.

“Heads up!”

Leliana turned quickly and caught the pile of ropes that had been thrown her way with barely enough warning, clutching them to her as they thudded into her stomach and winded her. She looked up and glared at the elf who had thrown them while Sera giggled and held up her hands in mock surrender. “It’s all good innit?” she asked as Leliana tried to get her breath back.

The spy nodded and began to walk away, taking the ropes down to the lower deck where they would be stored until they were needed. She got to the ladder, shouted down to make sure no one was in the way, and then dropped the bundle down. They landed against the wooden floor with a thud, above her at the helm Isabela glanced down and winked when they caught each others eye.

What was it with everyone on this ship being flirtatious.

“Need any help, My Lady?”

One of the few people who hadn't tried to flirt with her, Sebastian looked up from the lower deck and smiled. He was squinting a little in the sunlight, even holding his hand over his eyes wasn't really helping, but he didn't stop until she nodded and started to descend the ladder. He helped her down the last few steps with hands on her hips, unnecessary but she appreciated the princely gesture all the same.

“I just have to put these somewhere safe in the hold, do you mind giving me a hand?”

Together they hauled the ropes, and the others that had just been left laying at the bottom of the ladder to the main deck, and stored them away at the foot of the mast step for the main mast. Some of the smaller ropes Leliana left by the step for the foremast, so they were easy to get instead of rummaging through a tangle of all different sized ropes. It seemed inspired to her, but Sebastian raised his eyebrows obviously amused.

“You don't think she’ll notice, do you?” he asked, nodding towards the careful organisation of the ropes in their two piles. “If you’re trying to impress the Captain by how good a pirate you are now, you have to be bolder than just doing little tasks for her.” He laughed and shook his head, beckoning for her to follow him further away from the hatch.

They headed through past the bulkhead and into what seemed to be a section of the hold devoted to cells, thick iron bars fixed into the wood of the ship for prisoners or mutineers. Sebastian walked into one of these cages and sat down on the bench, telling her it was the best place to talk on the ship since they could actually sit together instead of on separate hammocks. “So what are you going to do when we get to the city?” he asked her while he patted the seat beside him.

Leliana sighed and went to sit by him. She thought of all the things she could do while she was in Val Royeaux, all the people she could go to meet, all the people she’d need to avoid. She’d have to go talk to Sparrow first of all, but she wouldn’t mind seeing a few of the other spies while she was there, finding out what was happening.

“I think I’ll chase up an old friend and have a nice bath. I’ve missed smelling like flowers,” she told him with a smile.

It was something simple, but it would be nice to have a bath that wasn't going to be shared with the rest of the crew on some days when the water was in shorter supply. Maybe she’d even go as far as to drop some petals in the water, some rose essence, little luxuries that she couldn't afford to have on a pirate vessel.

Sebastian laughed again, grinning.

“What about you?”

His face fell quickly and he began messing with the collar of his white tunic. “I need to look someone up at the Palace, someone in the Imperial spy network. They should be able to give me some information on how things are going at Starkhaven.”

“I’m going to the palace, and I know how to get in without being seen. I can ask for you?”

Sebastian looked at her a little sceptically. How could he trust this newcomer who seemed too eager to please and who was also Orlesian nobility. But he nodded finally and sighed with relief. “If you could I’d appreciate it, I can’t risk being noticed.”

It must be hard being a Prince out at sea, and making a life as a pirate of all things, but Sebastian seemed to be doing okay for himself out here. They spoke for a while longer, and Leliana, instead of growing to dislike him as a potential enemy of her country and her Empress, actually found she felt sorry for him.

He was actual royalty, while she was just fake nobility, and he’d been forced to flee his country and his home, leaving everything behind that he cared about, or join the Chantry. As a bard, Leliana could understand why he wouldn't want to give up the luxurious lifestyle of a prince. She had seen so many noble men and women make the same choice he was being pushed into by his parents, and they had either excelled or resented the life they now lived.

Life as a Chantry sister or brother was supposed to be one of fulfilment, without the materialistic ideals of society getting in the way. It was a life Leliana wished she never had to endure.

Underneath her pity and happiness that she was starting to connect with the people on this ship - all the easier to pull off her scheme, not that she was enjoying her time on the ship or anything - she also felt guilty. Sebastian was opening up to her because she was like him, nobility forced to escape an unwanted fate. 

Except she wasn’t, and she almost wanted to tell him the truth. 

But she couldn't. She was doing this for her Empress, for Celene Valmont the first, and nothing would stop her from pleasing her and her spymaster. This was what she had trained for.

They had long since left the hold when the great buildings of Val Royeaux came into view, the spires of the Summer Palace and the white washed walls of the plaza just by the docks. If nothing else had, seeing her city again reminded Leliana just what was at stake, and whose side she was on. These pirates were scum, they had stolen from the Empress, from Orlais, and they would be made to suffer when she had recovered the amulet that had been taken.

But first she had to find the amulet, and all she had to do here was tell Sparrow she needed more time.

The ship was docked quickly and smoothly, Isabela shouting orders and Mahariel repeating them to the crew. “Weigh anchor,” and “Lower the mainsail,” and, “Secure the boom.” So many orders Leliana almost wasn't sure what she should be doing. Of course they’d stopped at ports before. They’d made a quick stop in the Free Marches by the Gallows Keep, which was possibly the worst place Leliana had ever been to and would probably hold that spot for a long time. They’d stopped at Jader and Highever. But she had never been expected to help. 

Seeing her struggling, Sera grabbed her and brought her over to a wooden wheel with several handles on either side and got her to help turn it until she pulled her out of the way and let it spin by itself. The anchor dropped and snagged along the ground, while other pirates jumped out of the ship and those on the deck threw ropes to them so they could tie the ship up at the docks.

“Good job everyone,” Isabela told them, taking her hat off and hanging it on one of the handles of the wheel as she leaned on the wooden railing of the quarterdeck. Beside her the Captain clapped and bounded down the stairs two at a time. She slipped on the last one a little but still managed to land semi-gracefully.

She walked over to the side of the ship, hoisted up a thick plank of wood with the help of a giant Qunari Leliana had come to know only as the Iron Bull. his best friend, Cremisius Aclassi, was standing next to him laughing as he pretty much picked up both the plank and the elf and then lowered them, muscles tensing. Leliana was sure the muscle stuff was all a display for the woman, and probably the men, on the ship.

Behind her Sera wolf whistled, even though Leliana was pretty sure she was only interested in women.

But whatever else is happening they are at Val Royeaux now, and Leliana had somewhere to be. She was one of the first back on dry land, walking past the Captain with a sidelong look. Mahariel averted her eyes and looked out into the city instead of at Leliana.

Once she was off the ship Leliana stood on the docks, not even noticing the smell of salt and seaweed and fish like she’d used to. Honestly here in the docks it smells better than the open sea. She’s got used to the salt stinging her nose by now and the wind throwing her hair around. It’s only because the Captain has an extensive collection of random bits and bobs that she managed to find a hairbrush at all and keep herself looking at least a little presentable.

She’d have to clean herself up before she went up to the Palace, and she knew a place where she would be able to go. It was just a little way, just a small detour from the route she would have taken down to the Summer Palace. It’ll take longer, but she has all day and all of tomorrow before the ship sets sail again and she has to get back to her quest.

Leliana remembered the way perfectly, ten minutes down from the plaza, then a sharp right turn into a residential area that stretched on for a good 20 minutes of walking, that twisted with the road as it wound back behind the shops in a sprawling network that Leliana was growing less and less sure she remembered by the minute.

By the time she has wandered for half an hour she was pretty sure she was lost, but she didn't give up. If she kept wandering around here she was sure she’d find it somewhere around…

“Leliana?”

Here. The accent sent a shiver down her spine that she hadn’t felt for months. She turned quickly to look behind her to the woman in the doorway. She was smiling, and it made Leliana weak at the knees.

“I’ve missed you, Marjolaine.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you're enjoying it so far, stay tuned for more chapters.  
> Feedback is very much appreciated, whatever it may be :)


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